ATF: Idle Hands
by retirw
Summary: Vin and Ezra should never be left unsupervised.


**Larabee's Ranch**

**Early afternoon**

"This might not have been a real good idea Ez," Vin admitted uncomfortably.

Vin and Ezra exchanged disturbed looks and dove for cover under the farm trailer. A deep roar was followed by clangs, bangs and thuds as debris rained down. Peeking out from underneath the trailer the two men considered whether or not it was safe to come out of hiding yet.

**"JUST WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU TWO IDIOTS THINK YOU WERE DOING?" **A furious voice demanded. Powerful hands latched onto ankles and drug the miscreants out from under the trailer. Nathan Jackson held Vin by his ankles and gave the man a shake periodically to make a point as he lambasted the pair.

Josiah Sanchez growled deeply and started across the field dragging Ezra by his ankles ignoring the conman's protests.

**Much Later**

Vin and Ezra sat on the couch in the den and exchanged glances of trepidation with each other as the oppressive silence filled the house.

"Rekin he'll kill us this time?" Vin asked seriously.

"You perhaps, me he will retain me in some state of life so that he might torture me at his leisure," Ezra sighed.

"You get to explain this . . . event to Mr. Larabee," Ezra ordered.

"Me? Iffen I 'member correctly this here was your idea. I was simply along to provide manual labor," Vin protested.

"I performed my part, the rest is up to you," Ezra sniffed.

"No yah didn't, it's still there," Vin growled in disgust looking past Ezra's shoulder and out the window.

"WHAT? It can't be," Ezra hissed. Standish whipped around to see for himself, almost snapping his neck in the process. "Oh Sugah," He whispered in dismay. The setting sun added a glorious backdrop to the scene of the 'crime'.

"Rekin we're gonna be ridin' the blister end of a shovel fer a long spell," Vin sighed.

"Surely a dump truck full of soil will take care of the situation. I'll even pay for the . . . Mr. Larabee will refuse such a non-painful solution," Ezra groaned.

"Yep, he's a might fond of that 'Idle hands is the devil's workshop' thing. Reckin ours is gonna be busy fer a long, long time," Vin grunted.

"So he is," Ezra sighed.

"Yah reckin they'll feed the condemned?" Vin asked miserably as his stomach growled loudly.

"Certainly, they'll want us to squirm a very long time," Ezra mourned.

**7777777**

Chris Larabee stalked into the room followed by the rest of the team. Larabee settled onto the edge of his desk and simply stared at the duo and then out the window before shifting his gaze back to the pair. Not his killing glare but a simple disbelieving stare. Josiah leaned against the door preventing escape that way while Nathan and Buck guarded the windows. JD fidgeted in an easy chair in the corner.

"Do either one of you want to explain to me how this whole mess started?" Chris asked softly.

"I was simply removing that apple tree stump per your wishes," Ezra sniffed. "Having facilitated said duty I'll be leaving now."

"Sit down Ezra, we aren't done yet," Chris ordered.

"Mr. Tanner and I**,** after due consideration . . . ," Ezra began.

"Whoa, I was jist along fer the ride. Don't be throwin' me under the bus," Vin growled.

"Were you out there?" Chris demanded softly.

"Yeah," Vin admitted.

"Did you know what Ezra was planning?" Chris asked sharply.

"Yeah." Vin slumped in defeat.

"Continue Standish. I really want to know what was going on in your head," Chris growled.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Ezra sighed.

"Explanations please," Chris gritted. "Tomorrow I have to explain this mess to Orrin Travis. Why do I have a crater in my pasture big enough to park my truck in?" Staring out the window Larabee shook his head at the sight. The apple tree stump sat in solitary splendor over the large crater. It's roots spread widely much like a giant spider web.

"Ez was trying to save us all some work. We been hackin' on that stump fer weeks. It shoulda worked," Vin grumbled.

Several grunts and scoffing noises filled the air.

"Thank you for your support Mr. Tanner," Ezra smiled weakly.

Larabee made a soft 'squeak' as he throttled his temper back to manageable levels. "Don't you think that was a bit of overkill?" Chris waved toward the window. A hand dropped to wrap around the stapler on his desk instead of one of the oh so tempting necks.

"How did that . . .," Chris growled.

"Easy brother**, **your blood pressure," Josiah reminded.

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1," Chris took a deep calming breath. "How did this happen?"

Ezra stiffened as his jaw worked nervously. Desperate emerald eyes brushed over the guarded door and windows with an obvious wince as the tree stump registered.

"Aw Hell, Chris," Vin sighed, dragging his fingers through his shaggy curls combing out a few twigs and clumps of dirt in the process. "That stump was there, and Ez was there, and that dynamite was there, and Ez being Ez. Hell, yah knowed better than leaving things open ta temptation that way," Tanner grumbled.

Josiah's lips twitched. Buck's lips curled up into a grin as the reality of the whole situation tickled his funny bone.

"Nobody was hurt," JD reminded faintly turtling up when Chris's glare settled on him.

"Only by an act of God," Nathan snorted.

"I had the sheriff out here," Chris growled.

"They oughta be used to things happenin' out this way by now," Vin said seriously.

"That anger management exercise brother," Josiah coaxed.

"20, 19, 18, 17, 16, 15, 14 . . . 1," Chris finished and took a panting breath.

"Dead, he's going to kill us dead," Ezra whimpered faintly as he scooted further away from the tracker.

"Don't forget the State Police," JD reminded before ducking his head and gulping when all eyes settled on him.

"No, we musn't forget the State Police," Chris agreed.

"Or Oliver Brimmel and his explosives team," Buck put in with a suspicious catch in his voice.

"Oh yes, the local bomb squad," Chris growled at the memory of the thoroughly detested man's presence. Scowling at Josiah he began to count once more. "50, 49, 48, 47, 46 . . . 37,"

"I'll finish cuttin' off them roots and get the damn stump out of there," Vin promised.

"I'll have a load of dirt delivered post haste, Mr. Larabee," Ezra assured in his best honeyed drawl.

Chris' countdown started over from one hundred. Vin and Ezra exchanged miserable glances.

"How much dynamite did you use in the first place?" Chris stared thoughtfully at the stapler in his clenched fist.

"We dug us a good hole up under the roots and tamped her in good," Vin explained innocently.

"How much dynamite?" Chris snarled.

"The first attempt was a quarter of a stick," Ezra answered quickly.

"Didn't even shake the stump," Vin grumbled.

"The first attempt? 150, 149, 148, 147 . . . ," Chris growled. Everyone stayed very still until Larabee finished his count. "Just **how** many attempts were there?"

"Three," Ezra squeaked nervously watching as Larabee throttled the stapler.

"Three?" Buck grunted. "Thing was sure stuck tight."

"Buck don't help them," Nathan smacked the back of Wilmington's head.

"How much Dynamite did you use?" Chris snapped.

"Two quarter sticks, in the second shot. We placed them on opposing sides of the stump." Ezra smiled weakly.

"See'd firecrackers do more damage," Vin muttered.

"100, 99, 98, 97 . . . ," Josiah began counting out loud.

"Just how much dynamite did it take to do that?" Chris waved an agitated hand toward the stump.

"It equaled out to be two sticks," Ezra admitted faintly.

"TWO STICKS!" Nathan yelled. A warning glance from Josiah and the medic began to count. "200, 199, 198, 197 . . . "

Chris ran agitated fingers through his hair and sighed deeply. "What am I going to do with the pair of you?"

Vin and Ezra exchanged fearful glances.

"We can start with house arrest," Josiah offered.

"It isn't safe locking them up together," Nathan warned.

"Ezra will be assisting me at the food kitchen and Habitat for Humanity for the next six months," Josiah suggested.

"Every weekend," Chris growled.

"That's not fair . . .," Ezra protested.

"You can join Tanner on the blister end of a shovel if you'd rather." Larabee smiled dangerously. "A hole that size will take a long time to fill."

Ezra subsided with only a faint mutter.

"I didn't hear you, Standish," Chris scowled.

"Mistah Tannah should be finished far sooner than my own punishment," Ezra grumbled.

"I'll be discussing this with Nettie." Chris smiled evilly. "I figure six months without her cooking will work just fine."

Vin gasped. "But Chris, that'll be Thanksgivin' and Christmas too." The color faded from Vin's cheeks and a despairing little whimper was heard.

Ezra's protests of inequality in punishment fell by the wayside as he wrapped a comforting arm around his partner in crime.

"Pard don't you think that might be a little excessive?" Buck protested faintly.

"Mistah Jackson!" Ezra yelped when Vin slumped.

Jackson reached over and began taking Vin's pulse with a concerned frown. "Lay him down and get his feet up."

"Nathan, what's wrong with him?" Larabee demanded.

"I do believe he's gone into shock."

**Author's note:**

Once upon a time, in the good old days, most of the farmers I knew had a few sticks of dynamite around the place to blow those pesky stumps and rock ledges. At that time it was perfectly legal and you didn't have to have a license or permit to use it. My dad was one of those farmer's and yes there was this apple tree stump. It rained rocks and dirt for a long, **long** time. Yes, you can blow a crater and leave that darn stump just sitting there. Spent a good part of the summer watching Dad chop the thing out with an axe. We had a chainsaw but it had gotten personal by then.


End file.
